Trust Issues
by Ashley A
Summary: Set BTVS season Five, post "Intervention."


Trust Issues.  
  
Set immediately post "Intervention" BTVS season five.  
  
Written for the B/A Angst a thon sponsored by Fickeldame.  
  
Rated Pg13  
  
Enjoy!  
  
"What you did for me...and for Dawn...that was real."  
  
The bruised and broken vampire stares at me, and I can feel his eyes boring into my back.  
  
"I won't forget it."  
  
He opens his mouth to speak, and I leave, slamming the crypt door behind me.  
  
His weak coughs echo and follow me, and I speed up, wanting to leave the cemetary as quickly as possible.  
  
I've spent too much time in cemetaries lately.  
  
Oh, holy hell. Spike made a robot that looks like me. A world of ewww cannot cover how that makes me feel.  
  
And yet...  
  
I trust him with Dawn. Trust him with her life. There's not too many people I can say that about.  
  
The one other person I know could physically keep her safe from Glory isn't here now. And that's a good thing. Well it's not, but it's the only way.  
  
I would have done anything, anything, to make him stay. But the one night, that was something. Which is better than nothing. Right?  
  
"I wasn't sure I was gonna make it through the night."  
  
And I had, because Angel had been here.  
  
I shake the thought of him off, and continue on back to the house. Willow and the others will wonder where I am, and I have to tell them how I didn't kill Spike for making the robo-me. He saved his own bacon this time.  
  
And that makes it okay in my book.  
  
Come to think of it, he's been there for me lots lately. He's almost a pseudo Scoobie. The chip that makes him unable to hurt humans has made him a neutered animal. But that's not the reason I keep him around.  
  
He gets me. Ha! Thinking it actually makes me laugh.  
  
But I sober quickly enough, realizing its true. All that stuff about Dru, and the obsession with me that Dawn is sure he has...regardless, he's never been anything but a help to me. Lately anyway. When he's not busting into my backyard with a shotgun.  
  
A feeling suddenly slams into me, practically taking my breath away. I know it, and yet I know it can't be what I think it is. I turn, searching the trees in the graveyard for a sight I know I'm just imagining I'm going to see.  
  
"Where are you?" I whisper, knowing I'm grasping at false hope.  
  
"Buffy," comes the answer, and my gut does that funny twisty thing it always has done around him. The sound of his voice alone can make my skin alight.  
  
"Ange- a-Angel," I stutter, feeling immensely stupid in the pink outfit, organdy skirt, high heels and all.  
  
"What are you doing here?" I ask, then mentally smack myself. Duh. I'm sure he'll tell me...maybe he needs Giles' help with something...or does he just wanna see me?  
  
"I left too soon," he says simply, shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't- I don't feel right leaving you like that. You need as many friends around you as possible right now..." he trails off, his nose wrinkling slightly as he walks closer to me.  
  
The duster I never get tired of looking at drapes gracefully across his broad shoulders, and it swings slowly around him, making him one with the shadows.  
  
"Have you been around Spike?" he asks incredulously. "Is he hurting you?"  
  
"What? No. I mean, yes and no. Wait, are you smelling me? That is so invasive and may I mention gross," I say, indignant. I cross my arms over my chest. We are so not going there.  
  
Yes, Angel, your blood progeny has a doll that looks like me. And he's been having sex with it. But it's all okay, you see, cause he saved my sister, the mystical Key, from this Hell Goddess that's been chasing her. And I trust him, cause you're not here.  
  
Yeah. He'll understand.  
  
"His scent is all over you," he says, his voice dangerously close to a growl. With a flash I remember that the bot has been wearing these clothes in Spike's crypt. And they've also been on his floor...oh my god.  
  
"It's okay, Angel. Really. He's no trouble. He's cowering under my thumb, really," I say, a fake cheerful tone in my voice that fools no one, least of all him.  
  
"Really. Is that why his smell is practically covering yours?" he retorts, his eyes flashing yellow. "You can't trust him, Buffy, you know that. Even with that chip, he's a loose cannon. Who knows how dependable he is-"  
  
"I do," I snap, and he shuts his mouth, anger flashing across his square features. Oh crap.  
  
"Angel, believe me when I tell you, he is no danger to me. I'm not involved with him, he's not hurting me. But he is, sort of anyway, a backup for me. He's strong. He can hurt evil things almost as well as I can. And he can protect Dawn when I'm not there," I say, my voice softening, wanting him to understand.  
  
"Protect her from what?" he asks, throwing his hands in the air, frustration and jealously rolling off him in waves. I can almost smell it it's so palpable.  
  
And damned if it doesn't make me feel good that he still gets jealous around me.  
  
"From...things," I say, turning and regarding my hands, playing with the ring on my thumb. "From things that Xander and the rest can't protect her from. The Slayer always has enemies, you know that. What if one of them decides to take her and use her as bait? What if one of them actually succeeded in killing her? What if they hurt Willow or Giles in the process? Spike can do this for me. And as many times as he's caused me grief, he's changed, Angel. He's different. He's- I don't know, atoning."  
  
His face darkens like a sky full of sudden thunderheads the minute I use that word.  
  
"Really," he states, the coldness in his voice making chill bumps break out on my skin, where only warmth at his nearness had been before.  
  
"Atonement is for those who work for it, Buffy. Not for those who decide it's going to be their choice of 'role' for the time being. For lack of something better to do," he spits, hand on my arm, yanking me around to face him.  
  
"He is not trustworthy. He is evil, pure and simple. He will lie to you, manipulate you, and get you to believe him. Then he will destroy you, and laugh at your pain while he blows smoke in your face.  
  
"He does things only for his own good. He is a consummate professional con man. I should know- he learned from the best," he says bitterly. I jerk my arm out of his grasp.  
  
"Angel, back off," I tell him. "Do you think I can't take care of myself? Do you think I'm so stupid I can't figure things out? I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not in high school, and I'm not some silly thing who needs direction to wake up in the morning," I yell. Oh boy, I'm on a roll now.  
  
"I know what he is. And I know that he's changed. Because of the chip, because he's bored, whatever. I don't care. The second he tries to hurt me or mine he's gone. But until then...I'll take all the help I can get. It's not like I've got an overabundance of friends on my side," I trail off, my anger losing focus. I take a few steps away from him, and his overwhelming presence.  
  
God, I love him so much. And he can hurt me like no one else can.  
  
He sighs, and follows me to a small wrought iron bench in front of the Haberman crypt.  
  
"Buffy, you know how much," he starts, his dark eyes full of the conflicting emotions that whirl in my own head.  
  
"I wish I could be here. I would do anything to be here, if it would help. But you know why I can't. We both know," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, cracked whisper.  
  
Buffy plus Angel equals pain, pain, and more pain. God, I hate being me sometimes.  
  
"I don't care," I answer, all thoughts of logic suddenly abandoning my brain. This is Angel. And my mom is dead. And there's a Hell Goddess after my sister, even if said Goddess doesn't know it yet, and I've resorted to telling Spike all of my dirty laundry.  
  
And I'm so alone.  
  
Stupid, hateful tears slip through my lashes, and my eyes burn as I lean over, burying my face in my hands.  
  
Angel pulls me to him, and I jerk slightly at the contact. Then my body melts against his, and I allow him to stroke my hair, and murmur comfort words to me.  
  
His lips brush my forehead, and I sob harder, the knowledge of what I had with him, and what fate wouldn't let us have sweeping over me like a hot knife in my chest.  
  
If someone had given me the choice to stay here, with him, in this moment forever, I'm mortified to say I would have taken them up on it.  
  
I have so many people depending on me, and right now I can't even bring myself to care.  
  
"Shhhh, Buffy, it's okay," Angel says into my hair, and I wind my arms around his neck, if only to get closer for just a little more time.  
  
"I..." I choke out into his neck. He draws back a little, his brown-black eyes burning into mine.  
  
"You what?" he says gently.  
  
"Just kiss me," I beg, and his eyes squeeze shut, hiding the want and grief that I had seen there a moment before.  
  
"Buffy, we shouldn't," he implores, but I know he wants it too.  
  
I lean into him, and slide my mouth across his. He shudders, and pulls me flush with his body. My heart is trip hammering, and his hands settle on my hips.  
  
I kiss him with desperation and abandon, and he responds in kind. A few tears leak out of his closed lids, and I kiss them away.  
  
What started as comfort ends up in passion. I crawl onto him, my hands sinking into his hair, his arms sliding upward from my hips onto my back, where I can feel them tremble against me.  
  
I kiss his nose, then touch his lips with the tip of my tongue, and he parts them willingly, his coolness taming my heat.  
  
I run a hand down his chest, the bulky cable knit sweater pulling under my fingernails. I risk a touch on his bare abdomen, and suddenly he's standing a few yards away, panting harshly.  
  
I sit on the bench, dazed, and alone again.  
  
"I...can't," he tells me harshly, and swipes an angry hand across his face. His eyes glisten in the light of the moon, and my face stings from the tracks of my own tears.  
  
"This was a bad idea," he states, his head tilted to the sky, regarding the stars as if they had any kind of answer for us.  
  
They remain silent as always, mute witness to our recklessness and my idiotic thoughts that touching him would make everything okay.  
  
"I'm sorry, Angel," I say, as if that will help. He turns bloodshot eyes on me.  
  
"Don't be. I shouldn't have come here," he answers. I stand, all instincts screaming at me to run to him, make him stay.  
  
But I don't. I remain rooted in place. He takes the few steps that separate us, his hand rising briefly to cup my cheek. I sway toward him slightly as he drops his hand to his side.  
  
"I love you," I choke out, not knowing what else to say.  
  
His mouth crooks halfway in that smile that's all my own. It breaks my heart to see it.  
  
A few millimeters are all that's between us, but right now the Grand Canyon could be there and it would feel the same.  
  
He presses a feather light kiss to my lips, and when I open my eyes, he's gone. So's the feeling I get when he's around.  
  
I blow out a breath I wasn't aware of holding, and trudge slowly back toward the cemetary gates and home.  
  
When I crack open the door, Willow lifts the book sitting on her lap, and pretends to read. I shut the door behind me, and she puts it down again, a cheesy look of surprise crossing her face.  
  
"Buffy? Already back?" she says cheerfully. "Did you have to pummel Spike into oblivion?"  
  
"Nah," I say, waving my hand in the air. "We talked it out. Is there any ice cream here?"  
  
She cocks her head at my abrupt change of subject.  
  
"I- I think so. Xander left some cookie dough fudge mint chip the last time he was here for game night."  
  
"Great," I answer, and head to the kitchen, kicking off my high heels haphazardly, and jerk open the freezer door.  
  
Ah, chocolate. My one true friend.  
  
I plop the carton down onto the island, and pull up a bar stool. Forgoing a bowl, I dig in.  
  
Willow sits next to me, eyes widening at the sight of my indulgence.  
  
"Rough night?" she says softly.  
  
"The roughest," I reply, and she nods in understanding.  
  
We sit in silence, the only sound being me scarfing frozen dairy products.  
  
My best friend doesn't need to say anything, and I'm grateful she doesn't try. There's not much to say, really.  
  
I am so going to destroy every vamp and bad guy I can find tomorrow. Which won't really make me feel any better. But I can lie to myself now, and not hurt anyone but me.  
  
And that's the only acceptible option. Trust issues aside, my attitude toward Spike is not going to change. He is the only one who can do what I need for Dawn. And I know that he'll do it without questioning me, and without fail. And I will use him for that, and hate myself because of it. But that's my job, protect the innocent, help the helpless, make the night less 'go bumpy'.  
  
It'll never be easy. But with my little group of slayerettes behind me, the future doesn't seem quite so bleak.  
  
And despite everything that's happened between us, I know that if Spike falls, and there's no one else, that Angel would step in.  
  
That thought makes me feel like I can maybe sleep tonight after all. 


End file.
